and when the night is new (i'll be looking at the moon)
by circus-fantasy
Summary: "Oh, God. She's getting married tomorrow." High-school Finchel. Slight AU; 3x22.


**AN: Okay, so wow. Almost everything I've posted has been angsty. I promise everything won't always be depressing!**

* * *

She wants to pretend she doesn't notice the way he seems more withdrawn tonight. She hides her eyes at the fact that his smile is off just so. Ignores the way her stomach twists when he laughs.

It even slips her mind when everyone is over at her house that night, a pre-wedding party if you will. One last celebration of her youth, maybe? She hates to put it that way, because she's simply getting _married, _not throwing her life away.

Oh, God. She's getting married tomorrow.

—

Soon the glee kids leave, and she's glad her dads are gone for the weekend—some business trip to New York for daddy's law firm (and he always likes to take her dad along, of course, now that Rachel's old enough to be left alone). And both Burt and Carole and her dads have agreed to let Finn stay over the night and she feels like she should be suspicious, but she lets that thought fall away, because tonight is the one night she doesn't want to be bogged down with questions.

Finn closes the door behind Blaine, who is still holding his drink in his hand, singing too loudly as he clambers down the driveway. She can hear Tina laughing outside and soon the cars' engines rev and everyone is gone.

Finn walks up behind her, smoothing his hands over her hips, pressing his lips to her neck. He whispers, "Looks like I got you all to myself, now, Miss Berry," and it sends a shiver down her spine.

It feels oddly domestic. This. Them. The having friends over to their house. Being left alone just the two of them once everyone is gone.

"I'm hungry," she pouts, and he laughs, grabbing her hand and leading her over to the kitchen. He grips her hips, lifting her up onto the counter while he walks around the kitchen, totally at home. He grabs the bowl out of the cabinet without question. Knows exactly where the soy milk is in the refrigerator. Where to look for the cereal in the pantry.

When his preparations are done, he hands it to Rachel and she smiles gratefully. She watches him as she eats, they way he's leaned up against the counter across from her, arms folded over his chest. And she realizes how much older he looks, now. So much more mature. They're so close to graduating now, and he seems so much more confident in himself—at least more than he was sophomore year. She knows he hasn't figured everything out yet, but she likes to think there's a master plan for him somewhere. That one day everything will fall into place and he'll finally see in himself the way she does.

She finishes her cereal, placing the bowl in the sink, and uses her finger to summon him to her. She spreads her legs just slightly so he can step up to the counter, and she feels his hands come to rest on her thighs—his fingers spreading and covering a large expanse of her skin. He smiles at her, rubbing his thumb across her skin, and she leans forward, gently pressing her lips to his.

"What do we do now?" It seems like a silly question because they're silly teenagers, and what do silly teenagers do other than lock themselves up in a room the moment they get the house to themselves? But she wants to make this night special—because after all, she's trading her name tomorrow. She's not going to be Rachel Berry forever.

—

At some point, though, they do make it up to her room. She turns the TV off though the minute Finn turns it on, and he looks over at her, pushing out his lower lip out. And, yeah, she may joke about them being domestic, but she's not going to have him next to her falling asleep to TV. They're not _that couple_ yet.

So instead, he turns on his side, pulling her to him, ghosting his fingers across her curves, and she sighs, turns towards his chest, pressing herself into him. She hides her face in his t-shirt and whispers, "I'm going to be a Hudson tomorrow."

And when she notices the way his breath hitches, she doesn't know what to think. Rather, she focuses her attention on the way his large hands almost cover her entire back as he pushes her t-shirt up. And she makes quick work of removing his own shirt.

They pause there, then. Not bothering to act in that silly teenager way and rush things.

She allows herself to trace her fingers over his chest, dip them down in the small contours of his muscles just peeking out. He runs his fingers over her tummy, tracing around her belly button all the way up to her collarbone.

Slowly she moves to his jeans, undoing the belt and the button and the zipper, letting him slide them off and toss them on the floor. She takes off her own shorts, too, letting them fall beside the bed. Finn rolls on top of her, cradling her cheek in his hand, his eyes darting across her face; and he leans to to press a kiss against each of her features: each eye, her nose, the corner of her lips. She sighs, running her fingers up his back.

—

And soon this game of trading kisses grows old and she grows impatient, ready to seize the last of her teenage years. To use this excuse for silliness and need and desire.

He's inside her quick enough, both of their heart rates high on excitement, and she looks up at him at one point, and registers the sadness that flashes in his eyes. She considers stopping all together, calling things off and demanding an answer _at this moment. _But she decides to let them finish. Let the two of them lie there as they come down from their high, her curled into his side, his chin on her bare shoulder.

"Finn, are you—are you having second thoughts?" She feels his arm tighten around her torso.

"No, of course not." He presses a kiss to her shoulder.

"I just—you seem… I don't know, just like you're not completely here. I saw it in your eyes." She turns into him, burying her face in his chest, inhaling deeply.

"Of course not, baby girl. School's ending, I guess. I just, I'm gonna miss our friends is all. It's kinda hit me that it's really all over."

She's still not totally satisfied with his answer, but she chooses to drop the subject, deciding she'd rather not be tied down with these negative thoughts swirling though her mind.

"Get some sleep. We've got all day tomorrow. 'Kay?"

"Mm'kay," she hums back.

"You're on the 4:25 to New York."

It rings through her like a shotgun.

And in the sweet innocence of the night before, in the last night of her youth, of noting Finn's transformation from boy to man, in no world would she had ever thought of New York being so lonely.


End file.
